


Can't Fight This Feeling

by mannybothans



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Horny Dean Winchester, Horny Reader, Movie Night, Porn Without Plot, Reader Insert, Smut, Supportive Sam Winchester, Texting, Tulpa, Wingman Sam Winchester, confused feelings, consent is fucking sexy okay, death echoes, flirting via text, i might be obsessed with dean's cock, i pretty much just write smut, i wrote this in july but never published it???, if ya don't know by now, intuitive sam winchester, meme lord reader, shameless flirting, the Dean Cave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 11:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mannybothans/pseuds/mannybothans
Summary: Winchesters are bad news. You've known them all your life, basically, but kept your distance. But that doesn't stop you from doing a little shameless flirting with Dean via text.What you didn't expect is for him to think you were serious.





	Can't Fight This Feeling

The Winchester brothers were cursed and everyone knew it. But it didn’t stop you from helping out if you happened to be in the same area, which wasn’t often. Sam’s smarts and quick thinking impressed you and Dean always had a joke to crack or prank to play – usually at his brother’s expense.

You were posted up outside Athens, Ohio, investigating the notoriously haunted and abandoned asylum. Hunters had been coming here to send spirits to the other side for years but it always seemed that some dumbass teenage kid managed to stir up more ghosts every few years. It seemed like a fairly ho-hum case compared to what the Winchesters had wrought upon God’s Green Earth – first the apocalypse – complete with Four Horsemen and Lucifer – and then the Leviathan, followed by the Darkness and yeesh. Your life was quiet compared to theirs.

You yawned and reached for your beer, finding it empty with a scowl on your face. Sighing, you got up and retrieved another before plopping unceremoniously into your chair to await the end of the barrage of articles that were unhelpfully popping up on the screen.

You picked up your phone, fully intending to download a new game when it vibrated in your hand and “Text from Dean Winchester” appeared on the screen. A smirk tugged at your lips as you swiped to open it.

_What’s shakin, bacon?_

You rolled your eyes but grinned and typed a reply: Nothin, muffin. Checking out the Athens, OH asylum.

_that old thing? Active again? Damn kids._

ayup. stupid fucks can’t leave well enough alone. shouldn’t be too hard to put these ghosts down.

_sounds riveting_

byyyyy the way! I ran into this guy who totally reminded me of you in every way except looks.   
he spoke like you, likes the same music, and his name is also monosyallabic ;P   
you may have another brother you don’t know about

_oh har har. except from looks, huh? so he’s prettier than me?_

XD is that even possible????

_I dunno you tell me_

consensus is – extremely unlikely

You waited for Dean’s reply but it didn’t come for several minutes. You shrugged and directed your attention back to your laptop, which had stopped retrieving articles about the asylum and the town around it.

**

You wiped your hands of the dirt and grime after climbing out of the third grave, then doused it with the remains of your accelerant and dropped in a few lit matches. A hard sigh escaped your lips and you finally pulled your phone out of your pocket.

god I wish kids would quit fucking around with the dead

Grabbing your tools, you brushed your jeans off once again. After, you started the hike back to your car. Someone else could recover the grave.

_gank some ghost booty? Was it as good for them as it was for you?_

it was actually probably better for them. haven’t gotten laid in weeks. :(

_well don’t think of me naked or anything, I’m sure it won’t help ;P_

You groaned and bit your lip – of course you immediately thought of him naked. There was the one time you’d accidentally walked in on him in the shower and you hadn’t lived that down for months afterward. Even still, was always a bit of shameless flirting between the two of you, and sometimes you and Sam would also jokingly flirt until it hit peak levels of ridiculous. Sure, you’d had opportunity to act on the flirting with Dean but you never had, not seriously and nothing beyond pointless kissing. Not even when you were pressed tightly against each other behind a false wall while investigating a haunting.

A shiver went up your spine at the thought of how he felt; his hard torso pushing into your breasts because you’d nervously canted your hips away from his, his thigh wedged between yours, the brush of his knuckles against yours at your sides… and that was quickly replaced by how he looked in the shower. All male model physique, covered in streams of water, his muscles twitching with every move, and his ass. Dear god that _booty_.

You let your lip go, tasting a bit of copper because the thought of him was too much. You’d shared intimate space since then with almost 100% less sexual tension. Dean had become focused and intense, shooting first and asking questions later. And he often split off from you and Sam, so you just assumed he needed to do things his own way. But the shameless flirting remained part of your relationship.

am I ever gonna live that down

_nope never_

_admit it – you checked me out_

_all wet and naked, vulnerable_

_is that doing it for ya, sweetheart?_

it’s certainly doing something but it might also just be the tacos I ate too quickly earlier

By this time, you’d gotten to your car and slipped in to head back to the motel. You sat at a stop light and hit “send.”

_tacos make you horny?!_

who said I was horny?

_I just assumed because you’re thinkin about me naked_

_you know, I was actually disappointed you didn’t join me_

_I wouldn’t of minded_

You unlocked your motel room door and opened the texts, your eyes going impossibly wide before you laughed. Your foot closed the door behind you and you locked up before you headed to the bathroom, toeing off your boots and socks as you went.

lmao dean what? like, we’d have our rubber duckies and little shower caps on while the bubbles are chest-high from both of us vigorously scrubbing each other’s backs?

_or like me shoving you against the wall and fucking you until you scream_

You blinked, Dean never really took it this far – it was too weird for both of you. You figured he must be drinking or maybe Sam was yanking your chain and put your phone down without replying.

Your phone didn’t buzz again all night but your vibrator sure did.

**

Three weeks went by and you were baking in Phoenix, Arizona after taking care of death echoes. You hadn’t heard from Dean nor Sam and despite your faith that those two were just fine – divine intervention and all – you got a little nervous and decided to break the ice.

You snapped a few pictures of your face and cleavage, decked out in a bikini by the pool and sent your favorite with, _like my new bathing suit?_

Dean sent back a selfie of him standing next to a pool, the photo taken from above, showcasing his thicker-than-usual beard, a backwards cap, and the fingers of his left hand making a “V.” You happened to notice he was also in a bathing suit and then he sent, _you always looked good in red – where you at?_

Phoenix, you?

_fla panhandle. Buncha redneck Riviera types had a tulpa on their hands_

yeah I had some gnarly echoes out here but now I’m just chillaxin’

You made a face at your own word choice but it was too late, now.

_where you headed next?_

Right after that came a picture of him still from above, sitting on a lounge chair with his bowed knees turned out, bare torso glistening in the sun, and he was making one of those stupid awfully hilarious faces. You guffawed and startled another pool guest on the other side of the pool.

dunno – quiet lately. you got leads?

You sent back an equally stupid picture, snapping the picture from the same high diagonal angle and an equally questionable and disturbing face with slightly out-of-focus cleavage.

_shit, you’re gonna make me pop a woody out here like that, Y/N_

_Sammy and I are headed back to LB for the time being. Open invitation._

You laughed again and then bit your lip to prevent more outbursts as the second text popped up. Go to Lebanon and hang out with Dean? …And Sam, of course. And probably that awkward angel that hangs around them – Cash? Cat? Cass?

Before you knew what you were doing, you had sent: _sure, meet ya there hot stuff._

**

“Yodel-aye-ee-hoo! Anyone home?” You poked your head into the hallway of the dormitory wing and glanced around. You’d just spent hours on your lap top, alternating between internet threads for potential cases and funny cat videos and only just now noticed both the guys had gotten up and left some time ago.

“In here!” Sam called and you puttered down the hall towards Dean’s “Dean Cave.” It was literally the first thing he showed you – not even where the bathroom was. You wandered in and plopped onto the empty recliner nearest the door. You knew this was the angel’s usual seat but he wasn’t there to argue, so you got comfy. They were watching some comedy that probably came out around the time you all were in high school, laughing like they’d never seen it before and then quoting five consecutive scenes flawlessly. The movie – and their joyous energy – pulled you in and you were soon laughing harder than the guys. You even filmed them doing a really intense scene, almost acting it out physically in their seats, leaning in towards one another like a play much-rehearsed.

The scene ended and you were about to stop recording when Dean glanced over at you, finding you chuckling at their antics and your eyes shining with mirth. He grinned back at you, letting his gaze linger longer than was necessary before turning back to the movie. You also gave the movie your attention again, pushing down the need to over-analyze his grin as you saved the short video.

 _Bzzzzzt_. Your phone vibrated in your hand and you got a little confused because you shouldn’t have signal down here. Which meant someone on WiFi was sending you a message.

Dean: _top looks nice on you. It’d look nicer on my bedroom floor_

You wanna wear my clothes?? ;) a little unconventional but whatever floats your boat, man. Just keep your hands off my bras!

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean check his phone. Somehow, with Sam sitting between you and the two of you having a private conversation without him? You felt a little dirty; you might as well be sitting on Dean’s lap, letting him whisper into your ear while Sam pretended to ignore the both of you.

_nah, I just wanna get you outta yours_

try to catch me between 10-11pm – I usually get outta my clothes around then and into bed

You didn’t realize how your text might read to him until he replied.

_you sleep naked and you want me to join you?_

It took a lot within you to not laugh audibly at his horrible flirting. You were 85% sure Dean Winchester would never act on these texts, despite the fact he’d never taken it this far before.

I mean ;) if you’re not scurred come on down big boy

Dean’s mouth twitched up into a grin when he read your text and he chanced a glance so quickly over at you, you thought you might have imagined it.

“Dude who are you texting?” Sam asked, aware of his brother’s inattention.

“Probably some unfortunate girl that he’s not slept with yet,” you teased, insinuating that girls even turned Dean down. And the ones he turned his attentions to were in for a bad time.

Dean frowned after a moment. “ _Un_ fortunate?”

You and Sam looked at each other and laughed. The movie was forgotten as you all ribbed each other’s sex lives and took turns laughing at each other.

An hour later, you were howling and clutching your stomach, wiping tears from your eyes at the finale of Sam’s latest tale of Dean’s Sexcapades.

“That poor woman!” You cried, almost snorting.

“She was just fine, thankyouverymuch!” Dean asserted and it was a little cute how indignant he got before he laid into his little brother’s equally terrible sex life.

“Wellp, this’s been fun,” you managed to wheeze out after another ten minutes laughing. “I should get to bed.” Dean checked his watch, made a perfunctory face, and nodded. Sam watched him with a raised eyebrow. “Kay. So. G’night guys.” You waved while standing in the doorway before shutting the door and roaming off down towards your room.

As soon as your hand touched the door knob, your phone notified you of a text. “What do you want now, Dean?” You mumbled as you opened the text from him.

_so about not being ‘scurred.’ whatever that means?_

???

OH right the whole going to sleep naked thing XD haha see you later

G’night Dean

You set your phone down and undressed, tossing your jeans and tee shirt over the back of the desk chair. You pulled your bra off and sighed in relief – that was the worst thing about staying around guys 24/7 – there was no ceremonial bra removal whenever you felt like it.

Just in your undies, you slid into your bed, pulling the sheet up to your armpits.

**Knock knock**

“Um? Hello?” You lifted up on one elbow, wondering what Sam could possibly want.

But when the door opened, it wasn’t Sam’s silhouette framed by the hall lights.

“Dean? Is everything okay? Did Lucifer come back? Is Sam possessed? Do we need to call God? Are _you_ possessed?” You rambled off questions without letting him answer, mostly just giving him a super hard time while jokingly downplaying your presence. Dean stepped inside and shut the door behind him as you clicked on the bedside lamp, his fingertips pushing until the latch softly clicked into place and then he took his time meeting your eyes. He took in your clothes strewn about, your half un-packed duffel, the assortment of guns and blades on the night stand, and then finally you. “Hello? Earth to Dean?” You altered your voice into a ridiculous robot-like impression. “Beepboop – technology got Tom Cruise.”

You watched as his eyes traveled from your feet to your head and you looked at him questioningly.

“Well, your shirt’s not on my bedroom floor, but I can work with this.”

“I swear to god, Dean Winchester, if you just came in here to tickle me, I will rip your arms off.” You scooted away from him, barely holding the sheet over your breasts, as he approached the bed like a predator. The bed dipped as he sat down and you noticed a slight change in his demeanor.

“Why would…? I haven’t tickled you since we were fifteen.” He looked so convincingly perplexed and it put you on edge. “You punched me in the nose for it.”

“It was my elbow, actually, but I’ll do it again!” You fired back, briefly noting the look of confusion on his face.

He just studied your face so intensely, so silently that you started to become uncomfortable and think something bad really was happening. Dean finally shook his head slightly and licked his lips before he stood up.

“G’night, doll. Sweet dreams.” He paused in your doorway, his profile gloriously defined from the incandescent bulbs in the hall right before he shut it.

Your eyes traveled to the ceiling as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

**

It was Day Three and you were considering leaving, heading out on the open road that called your name. Sedentary was not your style of life; you preferred to stay moving, never getting too familiar or comfortable with your surroundings. You’d have to hustle for funds sooner rather than later, but that was doable. Dean was acting weird, avoiding looking at you and not even engaging in friendly conversation except to quip a joke at Sam’s expense.

“So what’s it gonna be, Y/N/N?” Sam chirped when you walked into the library after your post-dinner shower. You were dressed in sweat shorts and an oversized hoodie that mostly concealed the fact you weren’t wearing a bra.

“Hm? Oh. My night to pick a movie, huh? God, we’ve really not found a single case?”

“Make it good,” Dean challenged without looking up from his book.

You smirked and looked at Sam. “How does a Harry Potter marathon sound?”

Sam grinned widely at you and nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll make the popcorn!”

“Wait, what? No! We vote! Everyone has to agree!” Dean objected.

You giggled at him. “Should’a brought back the ‘no marathons except Star Wars’ rule.”

“Bitch,” Dean mumbled and tossed the book onto the table.

“Jerk,” Sam yelled back from somewhere else in the bunker. You laughed at just how well these brothers knew each other.

**

You were sprawled across the guys, almost three movies deep by now, on your side to give your increasingly numb ass a break. Your legs were bent across Dean’s lap and your face was on a pillow in Sam’s. You must have dozed off because you woke up to Sam gently shaking you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “wake up or you have to forfeit the next three times it’s your turn to choose.”

“S’gonna happen anyway,” you mumbled back, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “Where’s Dean?”

“Bathroom,” Sam said at a normal volume. You sat up, combing your fingers through your hair and Sam was eyeing you and trying not to smirk.

“Something on my face? Did Dean draw a dick on me?!”

“No! No, it’s just… he’s really into you, Y/N.”

You laughed in Sam’s face. “Yeah, okay.” You rolled your eyes and sat back, your feet tucked off to the side just as Dean returned. He sat down in his spot without saying a word. Once he was settled, a fresh beer in-hand, he lifted your ankles and pulled your legs back across his lap. He never once glanced over at you but this felt more normal, more comfortable.

“Yes, Dean, thanks so much, I’d love a beer,” Sam shoved so much fake enthusiasm into his voice and Dean just smirked.

“You know where the fridge is, Sam.” He rumbled. He sounded tired, maybe like he’d just woken up. It lit up your nerves and made your face feel hot.

You pulled your feet off Dean’s lap and stood up, eager for the chance to stretch your legs. “I got us, Sammy!” It didn’t take you long to relieve your bladder and grab two more beers but by the time you got back, Sam was gone. “Uh, where’d Big Foot go?” You held out his beer to his empty spot, frowning.

Dean’s eyes just barely flickered over at you. He looked pissed. Did those oafs get into some fight in the five minutes you were gone?! “He said he wanted to get a full eight hours.”

You huffed a laugh at the thought of Sam sleeping more than four hours at a time and sat down in his still-warm spot, crossing your ankles on Dean’s thighs. “I guess that makes this your beer, then,” you offered the extra beer to him and Dean took it, his fingers lingering on yours for an oddly long time.

“Thanks, doll,” he said and finished off his other beer.

“Yeah, sure…” you trailed off. The third movie was chugging right along and you ignored an odd feeling of sexual tension while you focused on the screen. Dean’s free hand was resting on your lower shins, his thumb absently rubbing soft circles on your skin. The beer you’d been drinking was suddenly gone; you’d downed it in the hopes of distracting yourself from the electricity his thumb was sending through your body.

 _It’s just because you haven’t gotten laid in awhile,_ you told yourself. _That’s all. Pft. Dean Winchester and you – yuck._ Your brain did a mental shiver of disgust. After several minutes, you couldn’t deny how horny you were and you gently pulled your feet away from Dean, tucking them under you.

“You good?” Dean asked, casually glancing over at you.

“Y-yeah. Fine. I just…um, I think I’m gonna turn in, too.”

“Tired already?”

You shrugged one shoulder and set your feet on the floor, then stood up and got caught in a stretch that had your hands high above your head and your midriff exposed. Suddenly remembering you weren’t wearing a bra, you hastily put your arms down and pulled out of the back-arching stretch.

“Oof. G’night, hot stuff.”

You weren’t sure why you just called him that but hoped to brush it off as a joke.

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna grab another beer real quick,” he replied as if he hadn’t just been handed one, standing up and following you to the door. His presence was heavy and you almost shivered at the feeling of him behind you. He’d taken his boots and socks off long ago but was still dressed in his jeans, over shirt, and tee.

“You ever wear pajamas, Winchester?” You teased, trying to break the wall of tension between you.

“Nah, I sleep naked when we’re home.” He answered fairly quickly, his voice low and thick behind you. You were on autopilot to the kitchen, as if he were somehow directing you there. Didn’t you just say you wanted to go to bed?

Yet there you were, face-deep in the fridge and fishing out a couple beers from the very back.

“Nice view,” Dean piped up while you were bent over. You laughed and wiggled your hips a little, almost missing the deep groan Dean let out. He was staring at the floor, hand on the back of his neck when you turned around and held out a beer for him while pushing the fridge shut with your heel. Several moments passed as he stood there, sucking at his teeth while rubbing his neck.

“Yoouuuu okay there, Deany boy?”

He finally looked at you as if deciding how to answer. His eyes were dark and his lips were parted as he took a deep breath and strode towards you. You blithely held his beer out and he forced your arm out to the side as he stepped up to you, took the beer from your grasp and held it to his lips, taking a long swig from it before he set it on the counter next to you. His body was fully against yours before you had time to make heads or tails of what was going on.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmured. His lips were still moist with beer and his tongue flicked out to catch an errant drop. You watched rapturously.

“Want…what? The beer? Fine, take it, greedy,” you shoved your beer into his chest but he didn’t move. You noticed him looking from your eyes to your lips and your brain started whirring.

“No. Tell me you don’t want me.”

Your jaw went slack and moved a little before you could find words. He didn’t seem like he was playing around. “Dean, I don’t, I mean we don’t do…that? That’s not us. We just… you know.”

“It could be us, Y/N.” He rumbled, taking your beer away, too, and setting it on the other side of you; his perfectly muscled arms were caging you in, now, and his hips were pressed firmly against yours. “I’ve been trying to drop hints. More like bombs, really.”

“So, the other night when you came into my room,” you began, a light bulb going on over your head. “You were… you thought we… you and me?? I was joking! I thought we were just, you know, doing the funny flirting thing.”

Dean’s brow furrowed slightly and his lips turned down ever so slightly. “I thought you were pickin’ up what I was puttin’ down, sweetheart. I want you.”

Your face heated up; he was dead serious. “But you… I mean I was like, naked! Under the covers and you could’ve…”

He shook his head slowly. “You didn’t seem into it. I didn’t want to cross that line and freak you out.”

“So instead of making a move, you just wandered away super casually? Like nothing had ever happened and that I wasn’t centimeters from flashing you?”

His frown deepened and your breath caught in your throat. Sweet baby Jesus, Dean Winchester was waiting for your consent to make a move. It was kinda hot and kinda frustrating all at once. What happened to that brash young man posing as a movie producer to score at dive bars across America? His tongue darted out to moisten his lips again and your brain shrugged and said, _you know you want to!_ You leaned up to close the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Full, soft, malleable. His lips were like a delicious sin wrapped in velvet. You’d kissed before; mostly just a casual peck or drunken smooch and sometimes it was needed to convince people you were a couple on cases. But this was all Dean, sober Dean, and not some alter ego named after the bassist from Night Ranger. He let you control the depth of the kiss for some seconds before he sighed and pried your lips open with his, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You grabbed the front of Dean’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fists as your tongue slid against his and a soft moan escaped your lips. It was met by a much deeper moan from Dean’s throat and his hands slid up your waist and pulled you even tighter against him. It was slow and seductive and you had no idea how long you kissed each other. One moment, you were engrossed in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding across your back, leaving warmth in their wake, and the next you hear Sam’s voice right behind Dean.

“Finally.”

Did he just scoff? Shocked, you pulled away from Dean’s pliable, torturous lips. Dean just rolled his eyes as Sam grabbed the beer that he’d already drunk from.

“No sex in the kitchen!” Sam called over his shoulder as he left just as quickly as he’d arrived.

“Fuck,” Dean muttered, dragging a hand down his face, his eyes not quite meeting yours.

Your face was bright red but you laughed it off. “Eh, he’s known longer than we have, apparently. He’s always had that freakishly accurate intuition.”

“I read his texts and you’re welcome!” Sam called, his voice further away. Did that man have the world’s best hearing or just immaculate timing?!

Dean shifted his weight and cleared his throat, his neck and cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. “So, uh,”

“That was...” What was it? Weird? Wonderful? You ended up puffing out your cheeks and exhaling sharply. You only knew you needed to do it again.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, his eyes already half-hooded as he lowered his face towards yours again. You hesitated, unsure if you should keep going. You could turn back now and chalk it up to none of you having been laid in a few weeks and suggest a night on the town for everyone to get it out of their systems. You could give him a peck on the lips and bid him goodnight and tend to your own needs with your vibrator. You could just walk away right now.

Instead, you tilted your chin up and whispered his name, sealing your fate.

His mouth crashed into yours, all lips and teeth and tongue. Then his hands dropped to your ass and squeezed, pushing your hips into his for the friction. You whimpered into his mouth as your arms encircled his neck and he lifted you off the floor and onto the counter. Your thighs clenched his waist and your heels dug into his ass, forcing his crotch against yours.

He groaned and it was so low and so goddamn sexy that you whined into his mouth, needing him so much more than you’d ever thought possible. One of your hands slid down his front and cupped the bulge in his jeans, provoking a twitch of his hips and another growling moan in his chest. You rubbed him firmly, eagerly, fascinated at how fucking big he was. _Well,_ you thought, _for once there’s a man behind an ego._ And then, _holy shit, holy shit, holy shit this is Dean fucking Winchester whatthefuckareyoudoing?_

Dean rutted his hips into your touch and he pulled away from your mouth with a wet, reluctant noise. “Sweetheart, you’re killin me.”

“Wanna take this somewhere with a door?” You asked, leaning in to place wet, open-mouthed kisses up his neck.

His answer was to grab the backs of your thighs and pull you off the counter; your limbs tightened around him and your hand went flying back up around his neck for purchase. He strode quietly and easily out of the kitchen, the only sound his heavy breathing in your ear. He got to his room and spun you against the wall next to his door. Your back hit the stone with a punctuated _thud_ , almost knocking the wind out of your lungs. He kissed you hard and deep, stoking that fire deep within you and making you dizzy with want.

All too suddenly, his lips left your mouth and trailed down your neck, his tongue darting out to join in tasting you.

“Dean,” you gasped, clawing eagerly at his upper back.

“Mm?” He rolled his hips against your crotch and sighed.

“Room. Dean. Go IN the room.” You blindly groped for his door handle but he reached out and pushed his door open before firmly gripping your thighs again and carrying you into his bunk. His foot kicked the door shut behind him and he dropped you unceremoniously onto his memory foam mattress. Without missing a beat, his button-up was off and followed by his tee and belt. You blinked, realizing you were gaping at him, watching him strip in front of you as if you’d done this a million times.

You sat up on your elbows, scooting more towards his headboard as he unzipped his pants and let them drop to the floor. “Dean, w-” you began.

“Do _not_ tell me to wait,” Dean cut you off, climbing onto his bed in just his boxers. His erection was distracting. “I’ve been waiting for years, Y/N/N.”

You considered this, the look of lust in his eyes, the slight twitches of his shoulder muscles as he hovered above you, waiting for your go ahead. A slight nod of your head and he was on you, his hands at your waist and shoving the fabric of your hoodie up over your breasts. His hands cupped you and he sucked in a breath through his teeth as his fingers teased your nipples. You grabbed at the bottom of it, pulled it over your head and tossed it to the floor.

His name left your lips in a blessing of a moan and he ducked his head and laved your breasts with his tongue. Each nipple was worshipped with his lips and teeth until they were so hard it hurt. He had one hand on one breast and focused his mouth on the other. You felt his other hand slide into your shorts at your inner thigh. A long groan left his mouth when his searching fingertips met no trace of underwear whatsoever.

“Shit, Y/N/N, you always walk around with no bra or panties on?”

“Not always,” you grinned at him.

“You should,” he mumbled, licking a flat stripe on the top of your breast. The fingertips in your shorts prodded gently at your folds and you waited for him to realize how fucking wet you were. “Shit,” he sighed and wasted no time pushing his long, thick middle digit into your hot, aching center.

A whimpering gasp escaped you and he pushed a second finger in, pumping his wrist lazily. The need to come was overwhelming and you pulled his face up to yours by grabbing a fistful of his longer-than-usual hair and tugging.

“So goddamn wet,” he mumbled between clashes of lips and tongues. “All for me,” he trailed off as if it was a question.

“You feel so good, Dean,” you breathed. His fingers curled as if on command, seeking out that golden spot on your inner wall. Your hips bucked when he found it and he curled his fingers against it over and over again. The heat inside of your core was unbearable. You outright whined when he pulled his mouth away from you. When you opened your eyes, he was diving between your legs, tongue first. You inhaled sharply when he found your clit with the tip of his tongue; he had you coming two minutes later.

 “Shit, fuck, Dean!” He didn’t stop and it sent you right back over that edge within moments, pulsing on his fingers. This time you melted under him when the trembling subsided.

He slowly pulled his mouth away from your soaked folds with a sloppy squelching noise. Dean’s fingers followed, incredibly reluctant to leave your wet warmth. He watched his fingers pull out of you with a slack jaw and glassy eyes. He usually only got that look when a perfect bacon cheeseburger appeared before him or he was eating freshly made pie. When he snapped out of it, he leaned over towards his nightstand and rustled around in the drawer before he produced a foil packet.

Your eyes went wide and your face turned pink. “You want to…? Tonight?”

He nodded slowly, opening the foil with sure fingers. “Babydoll, I want to do every-god-damn-thing to you every goddamn night. The thought of you leaving here unsatisfied and reaching for that vibrator you keep drives me nuts.”

“Heh. Alright then.” You smiled up at him awkwardly, unsure how he knew about your vibrator and decided that was a concern for another day. He pushed his boxers off his hips, freeing his thick cock, and pulled the condom over it with practiced ease. He stroked himself a few times once he was sheathed and you watched him fuck his hand. “Shit, Dean, fuck me. Please. Please fuck me.”

He was already lined up at your entrance, still stroking himself lazily. “You want it? You want my cock filling you up?”

“Please,” you sighed again and grabbed his hips, ready to pull him into you. He moved, first, slamming his hips into you and burying himself in your cunt.

A grunt of effort and pleasure escaped his clenched teeth and you arched your back. Your hands each grabbed a tit and you massaged them while waiting for Dean to start moving in earnest. “Fuck yeah,” he panted as his hips pulled back and pushed into you repeatedly. The heat of your skin and flutter of your heart told you that you should come again. So, you braced a foot on the bed and tilted your hips so he was hitting that delightfully sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

“Oh, baby! Not gonna last,” you breathed.

“Want you to come on my dick,” Dean ground out. You were getting so tight and he was exerting real effort to push all the way into you. As if to drive that point home as hard as his hips were driving into you, he reached between your legs and rubbed your swollen clit. He got exactly what he wanted – you came _hard_ and all over his dick, coating him in your slick as you gushed around him. “Hoooo shit,” he panted when he realized you’d squirted. Dean’s hips picked up pace and he snapped them into you harder and faster, chasing his own release, now.

You were moaning with every staccato exhale, driving him crazy and making him want to fuck you stupid.

After several minutes, most of which were spent grinding his hips against your cunt on the slide in, his movements stuttered. With a loud groan, much louder than you’d expected, he came. His cock throbbed inside of you and triggered a small orgasm of your own. His fingertips grasped your hips so tightly you knew there’d be little green bruises in the morning. A reminder of what you did and could never take back.

Panting heavily, Dean collapsed onto the bed next to you and you stretched out your legs. He slid a hand under you and pulled you into him as he nuzzled your neck.

“Wow,” you finally said, breaking the silence. “That was… wow.”

“Yeah. Did you know you’re a squirter?”

You blushed and shook your head. “Nobody’s ever made me… squirt before.”

Dean smirked, not even trying to hide his self-satisfaction. After a few moments of cuddling, he got up and went to his half-bath to clean up and dispose of the condom. You waited until he was done and then smiled shyly at him and went to pee.

You returned and began gathering your clothing, sliding your shorts on as Dean’s eyes watched your every movement.

“Whatcha doin?” He asked as if he weren’t still naked as the day he was born.

“I was… I was gonna go back to my room to minimize the next-morning awkwardness? Now that this is out of our systems?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and he looked down at his sheets as if there wasn’t a nice, big, wet patch on them then shrugged a shoulder. “Might just be easier for you to stay in here for the night. Sammy won’t mind. Besides,” his gaze flicked back up to you as you stood there in your shorts, your wadded up hoodie in one fist against your stomach. Your breath caught in your throat at the lustful glint in his eyes. “I wanna do so much more to you.”


End file.
